


King of Thieves

by QuillHeart



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Age Difference, Cagliostro-verse, Cowboy Jigen, F/M, Fatherly Jigen, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Living With a Disability, Lubean, May-September Romance, Modern Day, Overcoming Loss, Overcoming Trauma, Presumed Dead, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sappy, some fanservice, sweet romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10294970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillHeart/pseuds/QuillHeart
Summary: Two years after an incident that brings Lupin to fake his death and retire from the international stage, he and Jigen return to Cagliostro to crash the debutante ball of the princess, now in her mid-twenties. But is it still too soon for Lupin’s happily-ever-after heist?





	1. Docking

**Author's Note:**

> *Promises a pairing everyone wants*  
> *Writes a pairing no one cares about*
> 
> Seriously, Clarisse isn't even in the A03 database as a character. And as for pairing tags, Lupin/Nyx comes up, and so does Lupin/Rebecca, but does Lupin/Clarisse? Oh no. Not at all!
> 
> But anyway, have a gift fic, my readers, from me to you. 
> 
> Note: This fic is literally just people talking wistfully, gazing/pining at each other, and a couple of explosions. And maybe a kiss or two.
> 
> ...Wait, that sounds really interesting. I was trying to say that it starts slowly. (hahaha)
> 
> Note 2: Monika is the Russian prima ballerina from this episode http://lupin.wikia.com/wiki/The_Border_Is_the_Face_of_Farewell# .
> 
> Note 3: "Lubean" is a reference to this graphic: http://perunamuusa.tumblr.com/post/155632427497/cagliiostro-tag-urself-im-lubean

In the fading golden light, the first few stars were peaking out.  This high in the mountains, far from any cities, they seemed so much brighter than usual.  Beacons, really, Jigen thought, as he gazed up at them, cradled within the bowl of distant, shadowy peaks all around them.  Something about it just soothed his soul, and soon there would be so many that you could almost scoop a spoon through them.

“Man, every time I come here, I end up thinking that I could stay forever and never get tired of it....”

“Micronations are where it’s at, man,” Lupin agreed from his seat nearby. “But you’re just a sucker for stars and alpine meadows, admit it.”

“They’re so bright and healthy here,” Jigen acknowledged, gaze falling from the darkening sky to the landscape across the water and its many trees. “That’s rare, these days.”

“The stars are healthy?”

“The fields, dumbass,” Jigen spat, but when he looked back it was to find Lupin smirking at him softly.  Jigen cracked a grin back in spite of himself.  “But yes, also the stars.  They look like they did thousands of years ago.  No smog, just light.  Light you can navigate across the globe by, no matter how lost you feel.” He invited the clean, crisp air into his lungs and then sighed it out, his shoulders loosening. “Places like this…they can show you the way through any problem if you just give it time, you know?”

“Tell me you’re not going to start talking about ley lines and crap,” Lupin said, following his gaze upward. “I didn’t pack my magic crystals.”

“Oh shut up,” Jigen snorted. “That’s more your line, making me chase after some damn religious relic, only to find it pilots a spaceship or something.”

They both took a moment to chuckle at this, but Lupin’s smile was a little quieter as he kept his head tilted back.

It presented Jigen with a good view of his throat—long, jagged scar and all. It was mostly vertical, and went a little past his adam’s apple all the way down onto his chest. He hadn’t bothered masking it with makeup because, pretty soon, there’d be a tight collar over it in the cool night air to come.

But above all that, Lupin’s attentive eyes reflected the golden sky and the glimmer of a twilight Venus.

A few moments later, Lupin smirked at himself humbly and went back to work. Jigen nodded and let it be.

 

Across the lake’s placid surface, Jigen dipped twin oars into the water to his own slow rhythm.  Shallow waves rippled outward into the setting sun, gold to blue to purple as they dispersed. 

It’d been a while since he’d been on a lake, and certainly a while with a cogent Lupin in tow. And even longer since he’d been in a damn rowboat. But he didn’t mind. Exercise was good for him, especially in his old age. He was, what, almost fifty now? He’d honestly stopped counting a while ago. He’d never expected to live this long, so he never knew whether counting his age was a blessing or a jinx.

His boss, much younger than him but still nearing middle-aged and growing a healthy crop of comely crow’s feet for it, was currently sitting at the other end of the wooden canoe, feverishly bent over heavy fabric that draped all around the bottom of the boat. He was sewing by hand at a frantic pace and squinting while he did it; each time he pulled the thread up, the needle glinted in the light like a shooting star’s flash.

“You didn’t bring your glasses,” Jigen noted.

“Left ‘um in the car. A job's no place for fragile things.”

“Pretty soon you’re gonna lose the light,” Jigen continued, looking up with a quirked eyebrow.  Most of the sky was already a deep navy blue, and the sun had long set. “Five minutes, maybe, before it’s too dark to work anymore.”

“I know, I know,” Lupin muttered, jabbing the needle down.  There were pins in his mouth, slowly being collected as he finished attacking the decorative golden trim. “That’s what the lamp is for, though.” He pointed at the camping lantern, sitting dark between them.

“The lamp is for not getting shot when we arrive,” Jigen clarified. “Though it feels odd, to be arriving somewhere at night with an actual light.”

Lupin pulled the pins out of his mouth and succinctly dropped them into the tiny pin box hidden somewhere next to him. “What, as opposed to skulking around in the dark like the last time we were here?” he quipped.

“Yup.”

There had been scuba suits that time. And an anti-tank rifle.  And Goemon.  Compared to that, this was quite literally a stroll through the park--or rather, a row.

“Heh…those were good times, weren’t they?” Lupin’s voice asked, mirroring Jigen’s thoughts.

He came out of his reverie only to see Lupin fall into his own.  His boss paused his desperate attempt at tailoring and rested his chin in his palm, gazing distantly at the far shore.

There were green forests on those hills, quickly turning black in the twilight.  But behind himself, Jigen knew, there was also a castle, and a sprawling Roman ruin of a town, glittering in white marble like it was brand new.

“Oh wow,” Lupin said suddenly, turning an alert gaze past Jigen’s shoulder.  “The lights just came on.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Very.” Lupin said dreamily.  “Like fairy lights.”

Jigen paused his (admittedly leisurely) rowing and looked over his shoulder, and a whistle of admiration drifted out of him.

The pearlescent ruins—which were really more like a working city than a ruin, they were so whole—towered out of the lake with angel-white arches, buttresses, and statues for many blocks, and every bit of it was strung with lights.  There were typical path lamps on the edges of buildings and down the walkways, but for the party tonight, it looked like they’d brought in hundreds of hanging-lantern string lights to illuminate the plazas and walkways.

“Like the stars reflected on her crown that night,” Lupin whispered.

Jigen raised an eyebrow, surprised that he had even had time to notice that—and wondering when, exactly, it had been. Still, seemed Lupin didn’t quite remember the fact that they’d stolen it—or maybe he just didn’t think it mattered. Jigen’s face asked the former question, but Lupin quickly hid back in his work.

“C’mon, don’t work much longer, you’ll hurt your eyes.”

Lupin shrugged and turned on the lantern.  Stationed between the two of them, it illuminated his legs, which were draped in fabric like a blanket (on top of the actual camping blanket).  Which was probably good, really; it was getting a little chilly. Still, the light caught the ocean of sequins, rhinestones, and gold thread and sent them shimmering.

Jigen just shook his head and took up the oars again, adjusting his pace to how much work Lupin appeared to have left.  “I can’t believe we’re still putting our costumes together _as_ we’re arriving,” he lamented. “How far we’ve fallen.”

“I know,” Lupin replied, biting the thread off and then holding up the jacket he’d been working on.  He shook it off, and the light sparked off it like a wave in the sunset. “But this was so last-minute. Normally with a heist, _I_ set the timeline.”

“Well...”

“And our time-sensitive stuff, we don’t usually need outfits this special.”

“That’s true,” Jigen hedged, looking down at himself.  He was covered in cowboy gear—or at least, what people associated with cowboy gear.  It’d never really be this clean, or pristine, or full of fringe, but still—it’d been a while since he’d been in this much leather and an external vest that had nothing to do with deflecting bullets.

And one could not forget the chaps.  They did not help very much with the hard-ass bench of an old boat, but they did stop the breeze from getting through. 

Still, if he pretended hard enough, the worn-smooth oars under his hands almost felt like horse reins.  He closed his eyes and for a moment just let himself feel the breeze, thinking of a long-ago place.

_Ahh, good times, the ol’ ranching days._

He opened his eyes just as Lupin shook the costume one last time.  A bead promptly popped off, right into the water.  “Ah, shit.” Lupin leaned over to follow it. 

“Leave it.”

Lupin's fingers stopped just as they reached the water's surface and a short splash came up to meet them. He grimaced.

“Noo, fishie, that’s not biodegradable....” 

“Tragic,” Jigen remarked dryly.

Lupin sighed, but admitting defeat, shook his head and put the heavy jacket over his shoulders.  Nothing else came off as far as Jigen could tell, but it wasn’t like they had the time to mess with it anyway. They were only a few minutes from the dock; if the staff saw them doing last-minute repairs, it wouldn’t get them thrown out, but it might make their job harder. After all, it wouldn’t exactly be becoming of the heir of the Duke of Pepperwall to be sewing his own garments for a society party.

Unless he was a particularly eccentric hobbyist.  Which, to be honest, Lupin was pretty damn good at playing.

Well, the _old_ Lupin was, anyway....

“The rest should be fine,” Lupin said abruptly, probably thinking along the same lines. “But this....”

He picked up the massive hat resting in the bottom of the boat near his feet. Then he rummaged around in the wicker crafting basket behind him and produced a small, blue-plastic object with a metal tip.

“Really?”  Jigen hissed.  “You brought a glue gun?! On a _wooden_ boat?”

“Battery powered,” Lupin advised with an infomercial grin.

“Wait, what...”

Lupin turned the knob and went to work.

“Anyway, I guess we’ve both gained a little weight,” Lupin added, getting the hat in his lap.  “I had to change a lot of seams. Thus doing the trim only now....”

Jigen frowned, looking his partner up and down.  “…Physical therapy not withstanding.”

Honestly, Lupin almost swam in the coat sitting over his shoulders.  It wasn’t buttoned up of course, and he assumed it would fit when put on properly, but he looked barely there underneath it.

Now, Lupin had never been anything close to massive to begin with, but he had certainly been toned for his size, especially his abs and legs. Jigen couldn’t really say that was true at the moment; his wrists were visibly thinner than they should be, as was just about everything else about him other than his face. That, for some reason, retained its look more or less.

Of course, he’d _also_ seen him weigh an almost deathly small amount, but…he didn’t really want to think about that.

Lupin, for his part, was silent at this statement, quickly and expertly gluing a band of ornate ribbon to his hat.  Apparently he hadn’t lost that skill, after everything.

Still, as Jigen looked him over, nearly lost under all the costumery and blankets, Jigen thought he saw him shivering.  “Lupin, you’ve lost weight, you know?”

Lupin looked up, his eyes catching the light.  “Ah?  Have I?”

He looked so innocent like that, but Jigen didn’t buy it for a second.  He frowned.  “You’re still not up to the weight you should be, so do me a favor and eat something tonight.  Eat until you collapse.”

“Of course I will, what do you take me for, _not_ a freeloader?” Lupin said, hand waving hard in dismissal and forcing a big smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  When Jigen raised a dubious eyebrow, Lupin quickly ducked back down. “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll get my appetite back once I run around like I used to.”

Jigen narrowed his eyes, but when Lupin just kept staring at his lap, he looked off, tisking.

When he chanced a glance back, his friend had ducked down a bit farther than necessary to continue his work, shoulders hunched.  Maybe it was just the light, but Jigen thought his cheeks looked red.

A hundred things tumbled through Jigen’s mind at all this, but he’d learned over the last two years what he could get away with bringing up and what he couldn’t, without a shouting match occurring.

So instead, he brought in the oars and gazed at the castle towering behind him.  The tall white spires with blue tops stood gracefully in the middle of the lake, something like a flock of swans with little French nun-hats.

“We sure did good work here,” he found himself saying.  “It’s nice not to have to see another burned-down palace.”

“…Yeah,” Lupin agreed quietly.

“D’you suppose…we did enough, though?”

“Honestly?” Lupin asked, looking up at him.  When Jigen caught his eyes, again big and innocent, Lupin looked away.  His profile was pensive, and he bit his lip.  “Probably not.” Lupin shook his head and went back to his hat, worrying his materials as he figured out how to arrange the feathers into it. “But I hope so.”

Jigen looked his partner up and down.  Lupin was starting to do that nervous tick where he endlessly bounced his leg. “The princess is still in charge, right?” he asked, attempting to draw the thoughts out of him.

“Yeah,” Lupin said, turning the feathers this way and that without much success.  “She’s held onto power.  She’s got the people behind her, so that helped.”

Jigen eyed him, but Lupin was too busy being busy to let him see his true feelings about that.

“Here, let me see it,” Jigen said, gently pulling the hat out of Lupin’s hands.  The man looked up, rather surprised, but when Jigen put the hat on Lupin’s head and then superimposed possible feather locations, Lupin smiled like a little kid getting a reward from his dad.

It was so rare to see Lupin smile these days, and so lightheartedly.  Not since…

“Here,” Jigen decided.  He pulled the massive hat off Lupin’s head and held the feathers in place for him.  “Put them here.”

“Roger.” With his old craftman’s smile back, Lupin expertly got the last of the glue in place.

_So many smiles… I really hope this was good idea.  So far, so good, I guess...._

“There!” Lupin said, successfully gluing the feathers down without burning either of their fingers. As Jigen sat back in his spot, Lupin situated the massive 1600s hat on his head in its full glory.  “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous, dandy, and expensive.”

“Perfect! Gosh, I didn’t know you knew so many adjectives, Jigen.”

“Oh shut it.”

They laughed—laughed richly and warmly. Jigen couldn’t remember the last time their voices had harmonized in the night to such a cadence, let alone not had someone start brooding afterwards.

Still, when he looked, Lupin’s smile, bright and unbroken in the lamplight, completely outshined any of his scars.

             

“What a beautiful sight,” Jigen said after a while, gazing out at the Roman town, now that they were nearly upon it.

“Yeah....” Lupin agreed, following his line of sight and sighing. “This has been a monumental tourist attraction for them.  Really helped get the country back on its feet after losing the illegal income.”

Jigen made a solemn noise.

“The princess was smart, too,” Lupin said, going back to examining the colorful feathers and baubles on his hat in the lamplight.  “Had scientists examine it six ways from Sunday first, so that it could be registered in as many international care funds as possible. She also asked for small donations to local charities as the price for the privilege, which helped keep the country’s social services flowing even though the coffers were being…ah, _adjusted_.”

“...Shrewd.”

“Yeah.  She’s more of a ‘let the good come free and it’ll shake out,’ type of person, so I suspect the advisors had a hand in the cost-sharing scheme.  Which there’s some sense to, really.  It doesn’t matter how good of a leader you are, if your people are unpaid and can’t eat, you’re getting ousted.”

Jigen made another solemn grunt out of the back of his throat. “Unless you can blame the previous guy.”

“Yeah, but even that will only work so long. But! The scientific teams can absorb moderate fees, if they’re not too bad.  Sure beats countries where they actively extort you to stay alive in archeological sites.”

A chuckle bubbled up out of both of them at that, no doubt remembering any number of previous heists somewhere in the desert.

“But it’s barely anything for the public to visit,” Lupin continued thoughtfully. “Not bad for balancing the budget and keeping the place in good repair.  Now that it’s uncovered, it’s going to take some substantial upkeep.  Something like Venice, probably, which is hella expensive now that the sea’s rising.”

“They can control the water level here, though, right?” Jigen asked, looking around at it. He hadn’t thought of it before, but that had to be one hell of an issue, now that the lake basically had a new river attached to it.

“Mostly,” Lupin said, his voice suddenly turning grave. “This was their reservoir for drinking water previously, so that caused some problems; and the flood downriver wrecked the fields, too….”  Lupin shivered, shaking his head and bringing his hand to his face.  “God, that was a lot of water.”

Jigen frowned. They hadn’t left downriver; they’d gone north, over and out of the country.

“Luckily, it was still early Spring,” Lupin continued his story with a sigh, “so most of the fields hadn’t been planted yet.  And it left some good alluvial deposits, so that was a positive. But….”

He shrugged, but rubbed his neck. His leg had stopped bouncing, and his tone had dropped to a whisper. That combination meant only one thing.

“…Did anyone die?”

“Some did,” Lupin admitted, pursing his lips.  “Especially in the next country downstream. It happened right at sunset, remember? But luckily, again, at least for Cagliostro, almost everyone was up here for the wedding.  The largest casualties in the country were livestock, and elderly that were staying home and couldn’t travel.”

Jigen grimaced.  “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Lupin said, staring at his hands as they sat folded between his legs.  “I was not…expecting the whole levy to break apart.”

Jigen sighed and picked up the oars again, determined to get to their destination before this got too heavy.  “Don’t blame yourself, though.  Blame the people who forgot how the mechanism worked.  And the ones who forced your hand.”

Lupin shrugged a shoulder and idly brushed at one of the long ostrich feathers on his hat. Jigen could see the look on his face: _Yeah, but I was going to do it anyway, just to see what happened. Even if it hadn’t been under duress. And if it’d been any other day, like in the original plan…_

And no doubt, that thought was going to make his mind go to another particular death they’d been trying not to deal with for the last two years.

“Hey,” Jigen said. “That’s thieving work.  You never know what’s going to happen.”

Lupin looked up at him momentarily, but only on the way to resting his chin in his hand again as he silently gazed at the distant shore. He nodded, but it was mostly lost in the gentle waves.

 

After a few quiet minutes of watching the distant party coming to life beyond the upcoming dock, which was still a few minutes out, Jigen asked, “Since you seem to have been doing the research on it…let me ask you.”

Lupin glanced at him, though he didn’t move otherwise. “Mm?”

“How’s the country fairing politically, anyway?” Jigen leaned forward and lowered his voice, minimizing the chances of being overheard just in case the wind was blowing the right direction.  “Didn’t look too bad on the way in…. We uncovered the counterfeit money scheme and you deposed—or rather, _dis_ posed—of the “evil count,” but...weren’t all of his guys still in the country?  She’s lucky there was no coup, yeah?”

“Yeah.... I think Zenigata helped with that, actually,” Lupin admitted. “And I gave her some instructions, too.”

“You...did?”

This was news to him.

Lupin shrugged and touched at his neck.  He glanced at Jigen, and then stared down at the dark water.

“I…may have left her a little communication device. To use ‘in case of emergencies that need your loyal thief.’”

Jigen stared, mouth agape.  Lupin looked off guiltily.

Jigen stared harder, gaping wider—and nearer.

“What?” Lupin asked suspiciously, leaning back a little.

“Are you _serious_?” Jigen hissed.

“It was in a button,” Lupin muttered, clasping both hands behind his neck this time as he looked back at Jigen dubiously. “A little rose-shaped button.”

“Oh my God,” Jigen said.  “Why are you two a walking fairy tale?”

“Because I like fairy tales, okay?” Lupin grumbled, doubling down on looking to-and-fro embarrassedly. “And she’s, like, a real princess in a real castle? What better chance was I going to get?”

“Oh my dear Lord,” Jigen continued, tipping his head back.  “What if Zenigata had found that?  Or someone else exploited it?”

“Then I would have known to come help her, but honestly, you don’t need to worry—it would have been way too much work to track us down; it uses a dummy barrier and wifi.”

Jigen let out a long breath.  He really wished he’d known about this, the last few years. Could have come in handy more than a time or two, when Lupin was moping around.  “So...you two have been...internet penpals, all this time?”

“Kinda.”

Except…if it were all this time...?

Jigen narrowed his eyes as Lupin’s knee started to bounce again.

Lupin suddenly sighed, putting down his hat on that knee. He touched a bit of the ostrich feather idly.  His sigh made it waver.

“Until...”

Jigen’s eyes went wide.  “You didn’t!”

Lupin glanced at him, then nodded, lips pursed and nodding glumly. “...Yeah.”

“You stopped talking to her after...?  That was almost two years ago, she must think you’re _dead_!”

Lupin flipped on the hat.  It was enormous and piratical and fluffed in the slight summer evening breeze.  

“She must have cried over you!”

“Cried a lot,” Lupin agreed.

“You...” Jigen swore.  “You kept it on?  You _heard_ it?”

“...I did.”

“And yet you didn’t ever _tell_ her ‘I survived, don’t tell anyone, please don't cry’?! Not even once?!”

Lupin had no answer to this.  He stayed silent, eyes hidden.

Jigen took a breath and shook his head.  “That’s cold even for you, Lupin.”

“...I know,” Lupin replied.

Jigen pursed his lips.  “I mean, it’s one thing when it’s me, who’s in this business as a lifer.  But a kid?  When were you thinking you’d contact her again?”

“...Jigen,” Lupin reprimanded softly. “ _Everyone_ thinks I’m dead, and I didn’t plan on changing that.”

It was Jigen’s turn to go silent.  Lupin looked at him almost desperately, but Jigen didn’t have much to say to that.  They’ve been over this many times, and it never seemed to get any better.

_“I’ll be here for you, you know,” Jigen promised.  “I’m not going anywhere just because of a little thing like a missing limb or two.”_

_“Little thing…” Lupin just looked at him sadly, that same dead look in his eyes._

_“Hey!” Jigen said with pepp, quickly changing tactics. “I brought soup!  Your favorite, it’s got lots of mushy carrots!”_

_But Lupin’s gaze, once so sharp and proud, just dripped hollow tears into the bowl. “She loved this soup.”_

Jigen nodded, took a long breath as he gazed at the sky, and then offered, “I’m not gonna judge you for it, but if you surprise her with it, she might...hate you.”

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Lupin admitted, looking up at the sky too, making it hard to see his face.  “But I just have to wish upon the stars of Cagliostro, don’t I?”  He murmured.  “And trust in the heart I’ve still got up my sleeve.”

 _‘My heart’_ …

Lupin hadn’t spoken of that in a long while.  Jigen still wasn’t sure if all this was a good idea in the end, but if it got Lupin even a fraction of an inch closer to his old confidence, he’d be happy for it. 

 _It’ll be worth it,_ he told himself.  _You’re just worried for him._  

And for the princess too, if he was honest about it.  Lupin was in a fragile enough state, but if she thought Lupin was dead, then he suddenly showed up alive and well, only to leave the next night... It’d actually make it worse for her. Much worse.

“Hey, Lupin...”

“Maybe she’s still got some of the romantic bits I planted in her, and now she can give them back to me, if they’ve blossomed….”

Jigen’s mouth snapped shut. 

Lupin hiccupped and touched at his eyes.  “Ah, row slower, or the water splashing will smear my makeup.”

Jigen was hardly even rowing at this point.  But he played along and did as he was told.  After all, that was all he’d ever done, wasn’t it?  That was his job—support Lupin in whatever way he needed so that they could both make it out with the loot.

And this time, the loot…

After Lupin hid his face in his hands and they both pretended he wasn’t weeping, Jigen rubbed his leg against Lupin’s remaining one.

Lupin immediately tensed, but it stopped him from crying, so Jigen doubled down.  He pulled the oars in and set his hands on Lupin’s knees.

“Jigen, you’re going to make it worse, what are you doing,” Lupin pleaded, but it was a sad, thankful note, rather than real protest.

When Jigen touched him like this, he knew it gave him ghost vibes.  But this was also a good way to keep him grounded without patronizing him.

But this time, Lupin only got tighter. Jigen made a point of continuing to breathe slowly, trying to synchronize their breathing, but Lupin was forgetting to breathe entirely.

After a few moments of drifting like that, Jigen sighed and put his hands on Lupin’s skinny shoulders. “C’mere, dammit.”  He pulled his friend in against his chest and sheltered him under his arms.

Lupin complied without a word, but he didn’t try to embrace Jigen back; he merely lay against him, quiet and still and shivering.

“I still see you as a whole man,” Jigen whispered to him, against the top of his head.  “And I think she will too.  But if you don’t want to, we can turn back.  No shame.  Some other time, maybe—”

“No no, I want to do this…”

Lupin rubbed his face against Jigen’s vest and then patted his back.  As he sat up and pulled away, he forced a smile for his partner.  His tears were gold and blue, the castle reflected in them upside down and in miniature. 

“God, why am I so nervous?” Lupin asked, wiping at his eyes.  “What the hell even am I anymore, if I can’t even get up the nerve to ask a twenty-something girl to dance?”

“A girl you like.  A lot,” Jigen said quietly, after a moment.  “A girl with a lot of bodyguards, from whom you no longer have the ability to run away reliably.”

Lupin’s reply was a pained expression.

“Is it hurting you?” Jigen asked clinically.

“No, I...think we’ve got it pretty well put together.  But thank you.”  Lupin sniffled resolutely, then hocked a lugie over the side of the boat.

 _Charming_ , Jigen thought, watching a fish eagerly appear to eat it. 

_I wonder if it’s that same fish…._

But before he could rib Lupin on it, Lupin turned back and announced with a broad, cheesy smile, “Besides. Can’t let all that fantastic partner-dancing on your part go to waste, can I?”

Jigen hadn’t, in fact, minded the dress rehearsal’s giant dress as much as he’d feared.  It was just...a new experience, he told himself.  New.

And interesting.

But mostly...new.  That was all.

And frilly.

And he’d never speak of it again.

“Ah hem, an’way,” Jigen began, pulling out a thick (far more thick than was reasonable in this day and age, but which people adored anyway) drawl from Texas, “Seems we’ve arr _ai_ ved, yer highniss.”

Lupin chortled.  He never had been able to resist that, and it made Jigen smile back.

This moment—was a job well done.

           

Tonight felt like the era _Before,_ and that was the whole point, he supposed.  Cagliostro had been good to them, and probably still needed them six ways from Sunday.  It was most likely the best place to make a new start.

It’d been so long since he’d seen Lupin smile genuinely.  For Jigen’s part, this night was the culmination of a lot of long nights holding him while he cried from nightmares, and days trying to entice him to eat while he sat around staring out windows for hours on end. 

For Lupin’s part, it was much, much more than that, though Jigen wasn’t going to jinx it by thinking about the details.

In any event, Jigen had been happy for the spark this party had offered them, even if it involved frantic all-nighters to put plans together. (Which were, really, nothing compared to the danger of what they used to do, but they were both out of practice anymore, and Jigen, frankly, was getting close to once and for all being “too old for this.”)

Still, his old accent was annoying to have to produce, but only because he was so good at it that it brought him more attention than he was accustomed to.

_But maybe I’m just going to be relegated to manservant after this, huh?  If all goes right.  So what’s my dignity matter, anyway.  Time to be a hick again one last time, self.  For your boss._

Jigen pulled in the oars as they docked.  There were a group of people checking in dignitaries, and while they had been expecting some boats, they were clearly expecting motorized ones.  Their canoe barely went up to the wood of the dock.  But that was style for you.

And when it came to style, where there was a will, there was a way.  Jigen flipped on his own hat—his normal hat style, really, just with bigger wings—and hopped onto the dock without the help of attendants.  As he gave them the guide rope, the heavy spurs on his heels clicked and clacked—invigorating memories of a longaway time in a longaway place.

“Well, leht’s geht this hat and leathir party _awn_ , yeh haaw!” he said, shaking the last bit out with pumped fists like it was a real joy.  It was gutteral and even hurt a bit, it was so loud.

“What have I done,” he heard Lupin whisper behind him. Everyone around them had startled silent and gone as still as the statues.

But Jigen only smirked, readjusting his hat as he reached down for Lupin.  _Well, at least now yer not thinkin about yer damn deficiencies—ah, crap, now I’m thinking in it, too! Augh!_

His friend grabbed his hand and lifted out of the boat, light as a fairy from the old stories. He didn’t even wobble when he got onto the dock, and, standing hand-in-hand facing Jigen, Lupin smiled triumphantly. 

When he looked up, pleased, his sparkling eyes caught Jigen’s, and he instantly looked down again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, gripping Jigen’s fingers under the lights and streamers and stars.  “For getting me here tonight.”

Jigen knew that meant a lot more than the surface words.  But he just smiled and gripped Lupin’s hands back.  “No problem.  Now go have fun.”

Lupin smiled and his slender hands slipped out of Jigen’s.

After that, Jigen quickly helped him into his heavy three-quarters colonial English overcoat and fancy hat.  The breeches and everything else from the waist down were already on, including the period-accurate high-heeled shoes.

When they were done, Lupin moved ahead to speak to the attendant; Jigen stayed back, picking up their Carnival masks and making sure everything was in order with the boat.

When he was done, he looked at the clear stars, now so numerous they cluttered the view overhead, and then at the lights around them, mirroring the heavens as they reflected in the water. The whole sky was a moody navy blue now, but it did set off Lupin’s red and gold costume nicely.

He watched Lupin’s slender back as his friend, done checking in under their assumed names with a black-suited maître D’, surveyed the landscape—feathered pirate hat, gold embroidery, lace cuffs, engraved cane and all _._ He looked straight and tall and elegant, and, most importantly, like he was excited. Not necessarily invincible anymore, and maybe not even whole.  But he at least looked like he was fully _here,_ and for the moment, ready to stay that way.

Ready to finally leave Jigen's protective arms behind.

 

 _Oh well,_ Jigen decided, as he wiped at his eyes under his mask and pretended it was just because there was something in them. _It’s a night for memories anyway, isn’t it? Might as well make some new ones…_

Lupin, almost ready to disappear around the corner of a large motor boat, leaned back on his cane and motioned Jigen over with his head.

“You ready to steal a princess?” he whispered with a grin when Jigen joined him at his side.

“Oh yes,” Jigen said, matching it with his own toothy smile.  “I’ve even got my lasso.”

“Do you really?” Lupin asked, blinking rapidly. 

“Indeed.” Jigen patted his hip and the length of rope there, which everyone else no doubt thought was ceremonial, or a quaint prop at best.  “And I know how to use it.”

“Hah. Well good.” Lupin affixed his mask to his face, but underneath, Jigen could see the stars reflected in his determined eyes.  “We’re going to need it.”


	2. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you asked for it!
> 
> I'll admit not a lot *happens* in this chapter, but...bare with me. Chapter 3 won't take 18 months to post. f>.>
> 
> I'm not sure what age difference Lupin and Clarisse are supposed to have, but I assume it's 10 years or a little more. She looks about 6 in the flashbacks, and from the way he talks about it, it would make sense for him to be somewhere between 16 and 19 at the time. If you really push it, he could be around 21, so at most I think we're looking at a 15 year age difference. Yes, Lupin *acts* like he's 40-something in the film, ("back when I was first starting out"--you sound ancient, man) but the numbers quoted in the film ("it was ten years ago"--lol not really long enough to get that wistful about it bro) don't support the idea that he's any older than the first couple years of his 30s during the main action of the movie. 
> 
> If you wanted to make it less problematic, you could take the "it was ten years ago" as a rounded number, say it was more like 15, and then Clarisse is coming out of college ("the convent") in the film, making Lupin about 38...which would make more sense given the tone, but definitely not what the film said. So take your pick I guess. I won't fault you for imagining them a little older.
> 
> #JigenTheAristocraticBachelor  
> #GiveInLupin #JustGiveIn #ToTheCuteCountryGirl #Okay

“It’s a lovely day today,” Goemon noted, gazing up at the sky.

“It is,” Jigen agreed, looking at the fluffy white clouds as they drifted overhead. 

It was spring, and the two of them were sitting on a terrace that overlooked Lake Como, one of Lupin’s favorite places in the world.  The series of lakes that made up the region—strikingly blue, and dotted with romantic villages nestled into steep green hills that went right up to the water—stretched on for a hundred miles, each town and terrace more flower-covered than the last. 

The particular tiny villa they were staying at, just big enough for the four of them, was one of Lupin’s first hideouts.  It was an old Roman house apparently, and a place he liked to go to recharge his sense of wonder and romanticism after seeing too many dark things.

Years ago, he and Jigen had worked on this place, replacing beams, repairing walls, tiling floors, adding pluming and glass windows, and every once in a while a wild Fujio would wander by to decorate (and to break in the beds).  But once the renovations had been finished, it had become Lupin’s favorite group vacation spot.

And it wasn’t hard to see why: there were 180-degree views of the heavenly blue lake within the house, gardens that overflowed with flowers up the hill all around the property, and privacy.  Movie stars and royalty from around the world lived in the next sizable town over, filling it with every luxury they could ever want—and, notably, a lack of snooping types, given all the celebs’ body guards.

However, this little road stop along the way, no more than a cluster of a houses and businesses, was completely forgotten by outside interests, though the culture of not asking too many identifying questions remained among the residents.  It was the best of both worlds: peace, friendship, privacy.  Jigen even liked the neighbors: a quintessentially Italian little old lady lived next door and watched their house (and was paid by Lupin to tend the gardens) when they weren’t there, and every time they came for a stay, she’d throw a big dinner party for them, complete with three kinds of meat dishes and the rest of the burg attending.  Jigen figured she had a granddaughter that needed marrying off, but really, he wasn’t going say no to her ravioli, no matter how many dates he had to turn down.

Perhaps most importantly for the day-to-day, though, was the fact that among the businesses in their hamlet was a much-needed coffee shop. It stood just around the bend in the road from their house, and that was where Jigen and Goemon were this morning.  The road was barely two lanes wide, constantly hugging the mountain curves on one side and the water on the other.  The shop sat in a wide spot, with a few parking spaces and a great view on its terrace.

There was a flower-laden walking trail that went along the coast below the road (probably also a Roman relic), and it connected the houses in the hamlet to the outer world if you were willing to walk about half an hour.  Fujiko and Lupin had taken their drinks back to the house along that path just ten minutes ago, chatting and bantering as they disappeared under the rose trellis that lead to the trail. The morning air was cool still, and all in all, Jigen and Goemon had hung back on the terrace to give the pair some privacy…and to enjoy the view.

Thousand-year-old stones spread out underfoot in a massive half-circle, and roses grew over the edge of the red-roofed shop like a thicket of pink.  The cool, floral breeze sliding through his hair, Jigen tipped his cup of coffee toward himself.  Almost empty.

“One more for the road,” he said, lifting it toward his friend.  The samurai, ever out of place in his traditional clothes and faraway gaze, at the same time always seemed somehow at home here. Perhaps it was the lack of technology and the slow pace of life, but Goemon’s humble dress, slow gait, and classic features in the morning light—with a backdrop of the coastline and its endless gardens flowering around his head—somehow seemed just right.

Jigen was musing about what a historical-fiction tale of an old cowboy and a traveling samurai might be like if it were placed here a hundred years ago when he caught Goemon’s sage look turn into a frown.  His glower aimed at his own teacup for a while, then turned to Jigen.

“I didn’t want to mention it when the others were here,” he began gravely, “but there’s a shadow on my sword.”

Jigen leaned over him, one hand bracing on the table and the other on his hip.  “Really?”

“Mmm.” Goemon nodded.  “For several days now… But I know not to what it alludes, despite my many efforts.”

It was never a good sign, when Goemon pronounced that.  Jigen was more superstitious than some, and certainly more superstitious than Lupin and Fujiko.  He’d grown up around humble folks for whom the supernatural was very much real, so even though he’d never quite understood the shadow thing, he understood when to pay attention to people with The Sight.  “Is that what you were thinking about, earlier?”

There was a stone terrace in Lupin’s villa that overlooked the sunken garden, which in turn overlooked the lake; sitting just inside the house in the mornings to watch Goemon do his martial arts forms on the pavers was something they all enjoyed.  It was easier to see his artistry in that space, and for the man’s part, it seemed to give him more concentration.  This morning though, he hadn’t been practicing; only staring at his blade deep in thought as he sat in a formal position under the shade of the olive trees.

“Mm.”  Goemon nodded now, eyes narrowing and jaw tightening.  His arms were crossed inside his haori sleeves, Zantetsuken leaned up beside him.

Jigen looked around at the people in the café—and the spots around them that would hide someone with ill intent.  It wasn’t usually that simple and obvious of an event that the “shadows” foretold, but it still made a shiver creep up his spine regardless.  “I’ll keep an eye out, then.”

Goemon bowed his head a little, grateful.  The man could handle himself, but he also felt guilty whenever he couldn’t protect someone else, Jigen knew.  He was trained more to silently intimidate from the back or devastate mass quantities in combat, rather than closely protect one person from all angles, which was Jigen’s job.  Goemon’s sword-assisted Sight wasn’t that clear, either, and he always beat himself up for it.  But Jigen was good at listening, at feeling out and seeing situations—and maybe seeing something more ethereal than that, if his grandmother was right—so together, they had always managed to overcome the omens, one way or another.  Not always without sacrifice and loss, but never total defeat, either.

Because what they lacked, the other pair in their team could make up for in slack. Their boss had The Luck, and Fujiko could draw the eye of anyone and hold it for at least a time (and in Lupin’s case, indefinitely). The two of them walked through the world more like the shining scions of gods than full mortals, and Goemon’s sword was basically a divine object, so together, the group had all their bases covered, generally speaking—until something extraordinary came to get them.

Today, though… Jigen hummed and gazed up at the hill and its winding road, beyond which their little villa stood.

 

Lupin was an early riser; he was generally fully awake and functioning for at least three hours by the time Jigen got up, so it wasn’t unusual for Jigen to find him halfway through a large project, or having finished several small ones, by the time the group started breakfast.  But this morning, Jigen had wandered forth to the kitchen only to find Lupin sitting next to Goemon on the terrace, gazing out at the water with his chin on his fist.  They were both totally silent, tense silhouettes in the morning sun, each man thinking his own thoughts in quiet solidarity with the other.

And for Jigen, that was rather telling, because that particular lake Lupin looked out upon, while dozens of miles long, wasn’t all that far from the microstate of Cagliostro. The country was just one or two mountains away to the west, beyond a peninsula of Switzerland on the map.  Sure, it’d take you all day to get there because of the way the roads wove, but Jigen often wondered if Lupin stuck close these days because he was still thinking on their adventure there a few years ago—and the young woman that’d touched his heart during it.  They didn’t do as daring of heists these days; didn’t go as far around the world for as long.  It was almost like he was staying nearby in case she needed him.

Oh, and how he’d _talked_ about her, after that adventure.  A very lot, considering the number of hours he’d spent with her, and the way he’d professed that he was Not That Interested.

But lately, Jigen couldn’t help but wonder if his boss wanted to rouse the troops and go back.  If _that_ was what he was dreaming of, when he gazed across the lake at each rise and set of the sun: the fair princess in the white dress, calling for the help of her knight as she stood at the edge of her prison-like castle. 

He had to wonder, every time he watched Lupin’s bowed back in red sunset, if she weren’t unwittingly gazing upon the distance, too.

After all, Lupin and Fujiko had broken up, at least on paper.  Lupin still held a candle for her, but the cold wind was threatening to blow it out. He was starting to protect the flame a little less; was a moth gazing longingly at other lights.

But, for now, he seemed content to smolder.  Jigen couldn’t figure out how many more years this would go on; he had no idea what would finally be the catalyst that showed Lupin he deserved more than a dream, and better than a memory.

Out on the café’s veranda, Jigen sighed, wondering what all the signs and omens in front of him meant.  They’d been together so long at this point that each one of them was practically a beacon of the others’ emotional state, and Jigen knew something was weighing on Lupin’s mind.  Everyone did.

He had no idea how to bring it up, though.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” he’d said to Lupin in the car, that day they’d left Cagliostro.

_Lupin paused for a long time, then said rather defensively, “She’s sixteen Jigen.  That’s kinda weird.”_

_“She’s sixteen?” he asked, raising an eyebrow._

_“Mm hm,” Lupin nodded sagely.  “Doesn’t seem it, does she?”_

_“Well, you don’t have to sleep with her at first you know, you can just romance her.  Though I mean, she’s fresh out of the convent, I imagine she’s going to be pretty curiou—”_

_“Jigen—!” Lupin and Goemon swore at the same time._

_“Ah, well, I…” He would have sunk down into his seat, if he weren’t driving.  His face brightened up, and he tilted down his hat resolutely.  “It’s not that weird for royalty…”_

_…Or most anyone in the world, up until a hundred years ago.  The ones in his family had been plenty happy._

_Beside him, Lupin frowned, shaking his head out in distaste.  But soon, it was Goemon that shot a silver-tongued tease at him from the back seat:_

_“Lupin just doesn’t want the burden of children so soon.”_

_“That’s not it either!” their boss squawked, face going red._

_“Didn’t even think of that,” Jigen chuckled, then whistled wolfishly.  “You’d have to have kids, wouldn’t you?”_

_“Not…not necessarily, but…probably…”_

_So he’d already been thinking about it.  That was what Jigen got from_ that _._

 _“She_ was _very nice,” Goemon admitted after the sound of nothing but the road dragged on.  Looking in the rearview, Jigen found the swordsman blushing lightly.  “She deserves someone of equal caliber.”_

_“Yeah, and I’m not that person, right?” Lupin demanded, looking for agreement.  “One of you would make more sense.  I’m not that disciplined.”_

_“That’s not true,” Jigen shot back. “You’re incredibly disciplined,_ and _skilled.  You just can’t respect authority.  But if you_ were _the authority…”_

_Lupin sighed, big and put-upon._

_“But she_ did _call me Sir Jigen; I could get with that long-term,” Jigen ribbed, just to see what Lupin would do.  As expected, he twitched, eyes snapping shut and mouth tightening up._

_“And I find her quite respectable and impressive,” Goemon noted.  “Truly a wife any man would be lucky to have.  And she’s so nice and little…aherm.”_

_Lupin’s folded arms tightened, and one eyebrow twitched.  “Well there you have it. You should try for it.”_

_“She’s not my type,” Goemon shot back coolly.  When Jigen looked, he had a tiny smirk on his cheeks.  “But more than that, I don’t think I’m interesting enough for her.”_

_“It’s true,” Jigen agreed. “Did you see the Count?—and fuck that guy, really, glad he’s dead—but I mean, what a showy bastard.  Just like you, Lu.  And I mean, maybe she has a thing for older men!”_

_“Oh my God, guys,” Lupin complained, putting a hand over his eyes._

_“What?” Jigen snorted.  “We already know she likes you, so you could at least try.  And heck, she tried to kiss you!  In public!  She’s a forward girl when she wants to be.  We all know that’s your type, and just imagine what she could become with you by her side.  A true force of nature, heh...”_

_Lupin took a deep breath and when Jigen looked over, he found the man rubbing a hesitant hand down the side of his reddening face.  “I just…really…,” he muttered, turning away, “really don’t want to have to wear one of those goat masks.  What the hell even was that cult bullshit?  What if I have to do that in…bed…”_

_Jigen snorted in horror and even Goemon let out a short choke._

_“Lupin… First of all, that’s no reason not to marry a woman.  And second of all…” Jigen stared him dead in the face for as long as he could get away with, given that he was driving. “You know it’d be_ _a_ wolf _mask, for you.”_

_Lupin’s eyes widened, he actually gasped in horror, and his entire face turned beet red, as if it’d been sunburned. He made a strangled noise as Jigen and Goemon broke out in wicked laughter._

 

_When they’d finally caught their breaths and the air in the car had calmed down, Lupin announced, “That was horrible and you are both bad people.”_

_“Worth it,” Jigen snickered.  “But you seriously aren’t interested? At all?  The fact that you had to try so hard not to kiss her says otherwise._ Volumes _otherwise…”_

_Lupin huffed and turned away, looking out the window.  “I mean…she’s beautiful as this country is, inside and out,” he whispered. “But I’m…?”_

_In the silence that followed, Jigen hummed a little, wondering how mad Lupin would be if he turned the car around._

_“You did a good deed, Lupin,” he intoned softly.  “And that never sits well with you when it comes time to follow-up, because you’re afraid of what it means about you as a person.”_

_“And what, pray tell, does it mean about me?” he asked blackly._

_Jigen sucked in a breath, suddenly unsure how to respond._

_“That you’re a good man that might be worth keeping around,” Goemon answered sagely._

_It was a tone Lupin could never fight, and he went broodingly silent as the green trees went by.  The other two men waited it out, and sure enough, soon his voice bubbled up again, over the sound of the road:_

_“I mean, it’s fine to admit she’s cute and all, but, like…”_

_“There was chemistry there,” Jigen noted helpfully._

_“There was,” Goemon admitted._

_“Plus she’s smart.”_

_“And brave.”_

_“And well educated.”_

_“And pretty.”_

_“And we both like her,” Jigen concluded.  “So we’d support it if you wanted to go for it.”_

_“It’s true. Shall we vote on it?” Goemon asked.  “Simple majority turns the car around.”_

_“Guys, no!” Lupin whined. Still rubbing at his face, he kicked his legs up onto the dash and fell deeper into his seat, muttering from behind his hands, “We’re international criminals, we can’t help a country go straight.”_

_“Ah…” Jigen’s mouth pursed.  There was that.  Goemon, likewise, gave a heavy, thoughtful hum._

_“And anyway,” Lupin continued, one hand raising to cup his forehead, “the knight doesn’t ever actually get the princess in the end, right?  And I mean, certainly not in this century—”_

_“Lupin.”  Jigen turned to him momentarily, eyebrows raised.  “What are you talking about?  You’re the King of Thieves.”_

_Lupin hunched up and huffed.  “That’s not a real title,” he grumbled irritably.  “And not one you can present at wedding the world attends.”_

_“How many forgers do you know?” Jigen insisted, as if a few documents would solve everything._

_“Good God…” Lupin groaned._

_“Don’t act like you weren’t thinking it.”_

_“Uuugh.”_

_“And anyway,” Goemon interjected before it could devolve further (because it would), “These days, the barrier to entry is money and an unerring ability to be presentable to the public long-term.  You need to be a movie star, not a knight, and Lupin, you are both a movie-star smile and have more money than some countries.”_

_“Which you got through hard work, so you would be an industrious, proven breadwinner of a husband, which aristocracy likes these days,” Jigen added._

_“One who comes with two whole loyal servants,” Goemon agreed. “Ones of internally recognized caliber.”_

_“And they could launder all your outstanding funds and erase your criminal history. Wouldn’t be a bad way to retiiiire~”_

_“Somehow, I don’t think that would be a good way to repay her,” Lupin muttered._

_Jigen made a downcast note, but over the hum of the road, Goemon’s voice cut through:_

_“But as to your previous point, Lupin: Yes, that’s exactly what happens,” he intoned wisely from the back.  “In the old stories, a king is just a gallant knight who proves himself more worthy than anyone else in the land at an opportune time.  And you’ve done something in the service of this nation during a time of crisis that no one else could have, not even Zenigata and all his horsemen.  I think you deserve at least a date for it, in aristocratic logic.”_

_Lupin had no answer to that one.  But after Fujiko came by on her motorbike with a selection of stolen printing plates, Lupin slid down into his seat and sighed, a small, longsuffering smile on his face._

_Jigen eyed him knowingly.  “She’s never going to be yours, you know.”_

_“I know,” Lupin said, his smile turning sad._

_“She doesn’t even like guys anymore.”_

_“I know.”  Lupin sighed, his hands folded on his stomach.  “I just need my heart to figure that out.”_

The fact that Fujiko was here at the villa now, arrived just the other day, told Jigen that whatever Lupin’s current problem was, it would come to the surface soon enough.  Maybe they weren’t an item anymore, weren’t even _trying_ to be an item anymore, but he got the feeling that Lupin was still holding a candle for the dream that was the two of them.

A dream, no matter what happened, that was lived out in short vignettes between the main plot of their lives.

 _Maybe it’s time to remind him that Clarisse won’t wait forever,_ he thought, turning to Goemon.

“Do you think Lupin is still interested in the princess?”

Goemon eyed him for a second, mind clearly changing gears, then turned out to the lake thoughtfully.

“She would not be bad for him,” he replied carefully.

“You’ve been spending more time with him lately, in the hours when he tends to be all wistful and philosophic.  Am I barking up the wrong tree with this?  I mean, I think I’m right, but here’s the thought I can’t shake: if he cared more, wouldn’t he have tried to go for it already?  It’s not like him to hesitate, and he’s not getting any younger.”

“Perhaps that is exactly the problem.”

“How do you mean?”

“The age difference troubles him,” Goemon articulated slowly, still gazing out at the vast blue.  “He’s not sure if she’s just superimposing the desire for a father. That, and he’s probably the first person she’s ever had a crush on.”

“Oh…” Jigen noted, his stomach dropping.  That was selling her a bit short, he thought.  “But it’s only ten years, and you don’t know the rest for sure.  Ten years isn’t that much, given how mature she is…and how late he is in that category.”

“That’s true, and I think in the right circumstances all the other business can be navigated with two hearts that are intent to do so.  But your calculations also forget that she is a princess.  And not in the way that his other women are.  Lupin may have aristocratic blood on one side of his family tree, but it’s several generations back, in a country that beheaded its last monarch and burned that monarch’s relatives.”  Goemon took a breath, eyes narrowed, then shook his head and took up his teacup.  “Lupin would have to lie about his family business back to that point, and he doesn’t want to lie to his love interests, not the long-term ones, anyway.  I am pretty sure he feels that he would not be accepted by the remaining aristocracy and government officials who have the say in her choices, and thus doesn’t want to cause trouble for her.”

Jigen took in this information with a sigh.  He stood up straight and folded his arms, his weight to one side.  If Lupin was so respectful of her that he wouldn’t make a move, that was a beautifully new thing for him, but not really helpful, either.  “Being from money is pretty complicated, huh.”

“When it comes to things like this, yes.”  He shrugged.  “But I do think she offers him something that no one else can.”

“What, a title?”

Goemon eyed him, then shrugged with a gentle smile. Behind him, the blue stretched until the horizon, glittering in the strengthening light.  “No: A fairy tale in which he gets to be the hero, all the way through.”

 

They both knew how important “the story” was to Lupin.  He wouldn’t do something if it didn’t make a good tale; he lived his life by the motto that “if you have a choice between two options, all other things being equal, do the thing that makes the better story.” 

But perhaps more critically, Lupin also lived in a make-believe world. 

Of course, every human being crafted their own interpretation of the world they lived in and the things that happened to them; they used filters, some of which helped them, and some of which didn’t.  But Lupin, for better or for worse, demanded to live in the legend of his own making.  It was very lonely for him, when he couldn’t find people that had grown up wanting that exact same storybook life of adventure, romance, and discovery.  He was, quite simply, the essence of an eccentric, romantic throwback; a flower blooming in a secret garden all alone.

He had, eventually, found Jigen, the old oak tree; and Goemon, the wandering stream; and Fujiko, the beautiful bunny.  But what the man needed was a butterfly that delighted in visiting him every day. Or maybe another flower, blooming beside him.

“Why do you ask?” Goemon inquired as Jigen picked up his empty mug and turned it thoughtfully in his hands.  “You think it has something to do with the shadow?”

“Nah.  Cagliostro’s just over there, is all,” he replied.  “And I’m not getting any younger, either.”

Goemon took the last sip of his tea.  “If you get any plans to get them together,” he noted slyly from over his cup, “Let me know.”

“Heh.  I will.”

Jigen rapped the table with his knuckles and then made his way back to the café counter.

_So maybe he just needs a little push to know he’s worthy, then?..._

After all, if his boss was still hung up on Fujiko, it was because of something the relationship had offered him, that he hadn’t yet gotten any other way.  Something about what it meant for him to be _in_ it.  For instance, that he was worthy of love from a woman he admired.

_I just need to make Lupin see that the princess can offer him that, too…_

There was a reason Lupin never stuck around in women’s lives after a heist, and it wasn’t because of the heat from the fuzz—it was because he was afraid that the real him wouldn’t live up to their expectations after meeting the marvel that was his professional side.  And perhaps, even more so, that he’d find someone who needed him to stick around. Someone that would make him _want_ to.

But he’d grown over the years, and Clarisse wasn’t someone who’d be put at risk by being associated with him—at least, in a way that her own bodyguards couldn’t handle.

Plus, Jigen figured that the real Clarisse would quite enjoy the real him, even support his troubles, and vice versa—unlike Fujiko and Lupin had been together.  Those two, however brightly burning, were in love with each other’s legends; they were enticed by the people they were in their performances, not the people they really were.  They could sweep each other’s problems under the rug with grand aplumb, but they were utterly rubbish at addressing them, and generally didn’t want to—because why bother, when they could be a hot, happy, harried mess taking on the world together, that never thought twice about anything and lived in the upbeat feelings?

It wasn’t exactly that they brought out the worst in each other, but if they stayed together, they would stay the same forever—that was the kind of relationship they had.  They didn’t push each other to improve; they gave each other’s broken pieces just enough to feel whole.  Together, they were shallow people that often got on Jigen’s nerves, but when they were together, that was also all that they needed to be. 

But Lupin and Clarisse might bring out the best in each other, help each other bloom into something wonderful and sturdy; the shared respect they had for each other would press each individual to rise to the occasion for the sake of the other.  There was a wonderful man waiting underneath the surface and the scars, a man he knew Lupin could become with the right motivation, and Jigen wanted that for him. 

And for her.

Jigen gazed into his cup as he navigated around the tables, as if they were tea leaves he could read.  Goemon was right though; he _had_ felt the little tingle of _something_ coming lately.  Some kind of change.

_I wonder what it is…_

Once he got under the veranda awning, the cool of the shade slipped over him.  It was getting hotter—and later—than he’d realized.

_Lupin and Fujiko, huh…_

They had broken up officially a couple of years ago. Their unstable but desperately passionate relationship had worked for a number of years when they were focused on their careers. But eventually, when it came to the stage of life that wanted honest, long-term commitment, they’d broken apart under the strain.  But Fujiko also didn’t have any better offers, so even after they broke up, she would come back from time to time, which didn’t help Lupin’s impression that he could never change and they would never change.

Currently, his boss was busy spinning himself a tale that pining for her was the gentlemanly and romantic thing to do, the right thing for both of them; when the true right thing to do was admit defeat and become stable on his own, so that they could still support each other without the disaster that was them attached.  That was how they’d become happier people, but Jigen had never quite managed to sow that seed in Lupin’s heart.

They were binary stars in an unstable orbit, outer layers feeding off each other and inner layers bound to tear each other apart once they ever got down that far. 

Jigen was a nearby planet that needed their warmth, but for whom it would do no good to get sucked into the collisions and gamma ray bursts, so he simply rotated around them, offering advice, patting sobbing shoulders, and hoping at some point his friends would figure themselves out. 

Goemon, meanwhile, was a comet that came around every once in a while, but who was much more spectacular with the light of the solar system on him.

Jigen hummed as he poured himself a cup of regular American coffee for the road (cheap and sugary stuff you could get for free with pastries, but which had about ten times less taste and caffeine than the Italian blend, so only tourists went for it), sighing out a breath as he watched the waves crash into his hip flask.

Somehow, in the intervening years, Lupin had matured enough to realize that he couldn’t keep this pathetic heartbreak up forever, but he had yet to fully open himself up to the idea of other romantic interests—and frankly, what other kinds of relationships could do for his life goals.  He was still thinking of himself in terms of whatever Fujiko’s light had meant to him, but Jigen had hope that Clarisse had shown him something more. However, it was possible that even if that seed had finally been planted, Lupin might still have been lying to himself about his feelings for Clarisse all day long, because he thought that was the right thing to do, too. 

And Jigen could sympathize; Lupin had loved Fujiko for a long time. It’d take more than a passing new face to get him to switch tracks and think differently about himself and his own worth.

The question now was how to fertilize that seed—and get Lupin to do it, himself. 

_To get Lupin to realize he’s worthy of a girl like that…_

For all intents and purposes, Fujiko was Lupin’s Bad Girl.  And he was her Bad Boy.  It was time to grow up.  So…how to do that?  Some people never could, though he thought Lupin was slowly getting there.  Maybe it’d come naturally.  Or maybe he could get the princess to start writing him love letters?  He’d have to think on it, and maybe ping Goemon for help.

Jigen put the amount of cream and sugar he liked in his flask, stirred it up, and then went back outside, spinning the cap back on.  He looked over the swordsman once more, then out at the azure blue of the lake.  A few boats were on it, and a flock of birds was soaring overhead.

_Boss needs a retirement plan, after all.  One that’s not just me._

Not that Jigen minded spending the rest of his days with the camaraderie of his best friend, because they were so much more than that nowadays.  They were like brothers, and if it hadn’t yet, nothing could separate them.  He didn’t _want_ anything to separate them.  But if one of them went significantly before the other—they were both approaching that heart attack bottleneck for men—they didn’t really have a backup plan other than imposing on poor Goemon, who had responsibilities to his family back in Japan.

So Jigen gazed out at the lake, at his friend, and at his thoughts, until the clouds had drifted several degrees across the sky.

Truly, this was a lovely little hideout they had; Jigen cherished every minute of his time here. It somehow made it seem like everything would be all right in the end.

 

He was still thinking that as the ground began to shake.


	3. Daunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Let's get this party started! >;D

Walking up the dock from where their canoe was moored brought them to their very first impasse: A set of stairs, built into the bank of the lake.

Lupin stared up at it with great displeasure, not unlike a man hunting a particularly tricky prey.

“We’re asking the honored guests to take the stairs, so that they can come back down in the plaza and be properly introduced while descending,” the attendant explained.

Lupin turned to the young man without a word and narrowed his eyes.  Behind the black carnival mask, glinting with sequins around the contours, his eyes were remarkably expressive.

The young man instantly paled.

“‘F’it’s all th’ same t’you,” Jigen cut in, “his lordship would prefer a quiet en _tree_ , t’night.”

“O-oh?” the befreckled youth in the tuxedo asked. He looked back and forth between them, unsure.

“Stairs,” Lupin offered before the conversation could get any more awkward, “Are a bit much for me at the moment.”

He lifted the cane in his left hand, and then, after a tense second, popped a pleasant—and utterly ominous—smile.

“O-oh! O-of course! Yes! This way, please!” the young man said, pulling back a velvet curtain that stood behind him.  “If his lordship doesn’t mind, there’s a back way, here….”

“The servants’ entrance?” Lupin said in a cold deadpan, not moving a muscle toward it.

The young man’s mouth opened, and he froze.

Jigen looked between the two of them silently, eyebrow raised.

“I’m kidding, it’s fine,” Lupin offered, posture abruptly relaxing.  Around him, everyone visibly loosened; even Jigen sighed. “Still, a thought for next time.”

He made a flourish of his lacy hand as he went by, and a five euro coin appeared in the attendant’s hand, a perfect sleight-of-hand trick he’d probably learned forty years ago from his grandfather.

“O-oh! Yes! Thank you, sir!”

“This poor country.” As they went through the door, Lupin just shook his head. “No servants that understand nobility and an absolutely abysmal track record with accessibility. That kid was clearly pulled off some farm for the night, did you see his teeth?”

Considering that most of the roads were made of dirt and half the castle couldn’t be accessed except by scuba diving, Jigen would have to agree with the former assessment.  The kid, he wasn’t so sure.  He seemed more like an innkeeper’s twelfth kid in his brother’s clothes.

“Don’t get all prickly on me now though, the night’s just started.”

Lupin sighed and rubbed his head under his hat. “You’d be annoyed too, if you were almost forty and hadn’t gotten your dad’s title yet.”

“…Are you serious.”

“Kinda?”

Jigen snorted and clapped his partner’s shoulder.  “Eye on the prize, _yer_ _lordship_ —don’t method act yourself out of the running.” He leaned in and whispered, “The point is to impress the princess with your natural self, and you won’t do that pretending to be that guy.”

“But am I…” Lupin sighed.  “That self, anymore?  The one she fell for?”

This, honestly, was a question Jigen was a bit unsure of himself. They both felt it, but had been trying to avoid asking it aloud for the last month or so that they’d been cooking up this plan. It had been too important to give Lupin something to look forward to, he thought, to bring it up himself.

That didn’t mean he didn’t see it on Lupin’s face from time to time, or sitting heavily on his shoulders all the while….

“Well you know what?” Jigen said.  “Pretend to be yourself, and maybe then we’ll find out how much of that man is left.”

He smiled for his friend, and under the mask, Lupin made an effort to smile too.

“You’ll probably find out there’s more of him there than you think, eh?”

Lupin’s smile turned rather sad, but entirely too touched.

“…I don’t deserve you.”

Jigen shrugged, though he was smiling too.  “Just do your best, Mr. Knight.  All you want to do is dance and maybe apologize, right?  Then see if she’ll still speak to you.”

Lupin sighed, nodding to himself.  “Yeah.”

Jigen’s mouth turned into a line, but he reached out a hand to clasp Lupin’s shoulder warmly anyway.  “Is it too early to say ‘everything’ll be all right’?” he asked lowly.

Lupin’s gaze flicked up to him, pained, and he nodded, touching at Jigen’s hand to remove it. “Yeah, a little.”

Jigen squeezed his shoulder and then did as bade.  “Well, just put it in the back of your mind and think that it might be a _possibility_ someday, ‘kay?”

Lupin’s smile was gentle, sad, and quickly fell off his face.  “…Thanks.”

Jigen’s hand slid off his back with a firm pat.  Lupin turned away and walked off the dock with a sigh, onto the stone that was brimming with attendants running to and fro.

It was not a happy sound.

 * * *

_Princess-Regent of Cagliostro to Hold Debutante Ball_

_World’s Elite Invited_

 

_H.R.H. Clarisse d’Cagliostro, Princess-Regent of the world’s second-smallest micronation, is holding a debutant ball on Saturday, September the 21 st.  After a failed marriage arrangement with her cousin Count Cagliostro, the princess, now twenty-two, is ready to find a suitor once more.  _

_The nation has been in disarray since an international scandal rocked the principality and ended in the death of the Count six years ago.  The princess has been working tirelessly since then to improve the government and repair the nation’s public image—a heavy task for a young woman. However, she has earned the love and trust of her people by tackling the tough times with dignity, courage, and caring.  When asked about the timing of the ball to the local paper, she stated, “I’ve had enough of tragedy.  I think it’s time for the nation to have something to celebrate.”_

_Princess Clarisse is the sole remaining member of the house of Cagliostro, the royal family of the eponymous nation. Her cousin the Count was the previous steward-regent who’d run the country since the death of her parents in the central palace’s ruinous fire fifteen years ago.  She had been living in a boarding school until coming of age at sixteen, when the Count proposed the marriage arrangement._

_Princess Clarisse is now free to choose her own match, provided the assent of the senior council is granted. When asked what she’d like in a suitor, or if there were any fine young gentlemen that she had her eye on, the Princess reportedly said with a somber smile, “It’s too bad France no longer has Kings.”_

_This has led to much speculation, but whatever the case, the next prince-consort of Cagliostro will need to bring both wealth and a strong international charisma to help steer the country toward political and financial stability…_

 

As soon as he was done reading it, Jigen slapped the _Swiss English Register_ ’s headline down in front of his boss. 

They were in a hideout that was little more than a sterile modern masterpiece.  There was a loft, and lots of windows, and hardly any stone—or even walls.  It was just white, white, white, and glass, everywhere.

Jigen didn’t mind it, and it had every amenity, but it wasn’t his taste for a long-term residence—or Lupin’s.  And yet, here they’d been, for nearly a year.  Still, it beat the dilapidated condo in the Camens where they’d holed up for a while just to make sure no one could ever find them. 

This place looked out on the sea, rather than a lake.  It offered relaxing views, and an office that was full of wood and books—some of Lupin’s favorite things.  That was where Jigen had found him this morning, sitting on the couch in the library, a cup of tea in his hands, the remnants of breakfast on the coffee table, and a hand-made quilt over his lap. Like always, he was just staring out at the view of the water across the room, his thin features looking fragile and worn.  It was a far cry from his legendary self, but at least the circles under his eyes weren’t as dark as they’d once constantly been.

Directly after The Incident, Lupin had been in the hospital for quite a long time, and then rehab, and then Goemon’s.  But once he decided to hang up his hat, he had to leave his known accomplice’s. 

Jigen had spirited him away at first to the condo in the Camens, then a city in Costa Rica, then here.  The Camens were to give him a warm beach, good food, and privacy to clear his head, but a Category 5 had turned that upside down.  Costa Rica was an attempt to get him to engage with people again, but there’d been a bit too many poisonous animals there that Lupin kept hoping would bite him.  So now they were here—on the Spanish coast, a little closer to home, watching wineries grow, sewing quilts, and reading books.

Goemon came to visit from time to time, but it had been rare at first, since he’d felt guilty. There was also the issue of increased police scrutiny to worry about, if Jigen and Goemon got together.  However, when he did come, Lupin seemed to respond well to Goemon’s silent, steady, non-judgmental presence, and it helped relieve Jigen of caregiving duties—gave him someone fully-versed on the issue to talk to other than the neighbors, who only got lies and half-hearted updates. 

It’d helped Jigen a lot once he’d broken down and told the neighbors here that he was living with a war vet who was “dealing with some things,” as opposed to the first year, when he’d been in the Caribbean and alternatingly telling no one anything and drinking himself to sleep somewhere new on the island every month or so, when he just couldn’t deal with the black cloud that’d wound itself around Lupin’s heart anymore.  But every time he did that, he’d come home twenty-four or forty-eight hours later to find Lupin lying either in bed right where he’d left him or on the floor somewhere, in a depression-riddled delirium that resembled a coma.

He’d never found him _dead_ , luckily, but too many times of that made Jigen realize what he really wanted, and what he really needed to get to move forward. And it wasn’t isolation and pretending everything could be the way it had been.

They needed something new.  A new happy ending to work toward.

With time and lots and lots of soup, it seemed some of Lupin’s wounds were healing, and while he still almost never spoke, was still underweight and never treated himself with any concern, he _was_ doing a lot less sighing, and a lot more physical therapy of his own volition. Jigen was overly grateful for small blessings at this point; a day Lupin got out of bed was no longer rare, nor was a day when Jigen could leave him alone and return to find him in roughly the same mental shape.  But a day when Lupin went further than off the property under his own volition was still a pipe dream.

And this morning was not much different, but Jigen was finally grinning about something as he towered over his friend’s head.

Lupin had the mug of tea cupped in both hands, steam curling up between them and the strainer-spoon’s handle sticking beyond the rim.  He eyed the paper over his drink, then Jigen himself.  The steam curled up, dancing through the air as if to mark the seconds ticking by. 

“Read it,” Jigen said, smiling breathlessly.

Eyebrow raised, Lupin slowly picked it up and read.  His eyes scanned over it disinterestedly at first, but soon they were sparkling with intent, his eyebrows tilted down harshly.

“…‘Rumor has it that Lupin the Third, international art and gem thief and famously womanizing French son, had a hand in uncovering the proof needed for Interpol to move on the money-laundering ring that ultimately took down the country’s old regime and lead to the death of the Count—and the collapse of Cagliostro’s black economy.  He also interfered in the original nuptials, disguising himself as the Bishop overseeing the ceremony, to the point that they never went through.  The live-TV event was widely seen throughout Europe to much acclaim.’”

Here, Lupin paused to stare at the ceiling with a toothy grin.  “Heh…yeah, that was fun.”

“Read on!” Jigen insisted, bending down with an arm braced on the couch spine.  Lupin did so studiously—even though Jigen noticed him rubbing the gunshot scar on his abdomen absently.

“‘It is unknown whether the Count perished in the flood from his own hand, someone else’s, or a general accident, but the official story by the princess herself is that he and many of his men perished in the clocktower’s collapse pursing Lupin—while Lupin saved her Highness by jumping into the lake with his body as a shield to break the fall.’—Aww, how romantic, when they put it like that.  But we were running away from the Killer Count, not the collapsing building.  If we hadn’t jumped when we did, we would’ve been caught in the collapse and died….”

Lupin stilled abruptly; he swallowed hard.  Jigen watched him a moment, concerned, then sat down next to him on the couch and rubbed his shoulder warmly.  “Here…the rest.”  He pointed to it, spreading the paper out on Lupin’s lap.

Lupin nodded with some efforted and put his cup down.  He cleared his throat and focused on the paper with both hands to hold it.  Still, his voice warbled as he read.

“‘He’s…also known for stealing the hearts of his victims, so it’s…long been speculated if the Princess was avoiding marriage out of distaste for the affairs of the Count or…for a longing for her savior.

“‘However,’” he continued, his voice growing a little stronger, “‘the thief hasn’t been heard from for nearly two years.  According to an anonymous tip by his associates, he was reportedly caught up in the Lake…’” Here, he paused and, after a few hard swallows, forced out: “‘…Lake Como earthquake, and perished.  So it’s been thought that the Princess’s appearance on the world stage now is because she’s finally moved on from her tragic string of teenage crushes.’”

There was a pause while Lupin stared into space, and then, all of a sudden, he flipped the newspaper down and stared resolutely at Jigen.

“Those bastards,” he swore, unplucked, ungelled eyebrows furiously creased and voice tightening as he went.  “I’m not just some ‘teenage crush’! And how dare they write that up like that, is this a newspaper or some tabloid?  She has far better taste than _that_!”

Jigen grinned—seemed Lupin was still interested in defending her honor from all challengers.  “The details about the party are all there, right there,” he said, pointing below.  “You wanna go?”

Lupin’s eyes widened, then he quickly scanned over the details one more time, slowly nodding as he did so.  One hand stretched out, tracing the lines hungrily.  “I do… And I’ve got just the plan…”

Jigen’s heart couldn’t help but flutter.

Really flutter, genuinely excited about the future for the first time in years.

He didn’t care if there was a romance there anymore, or if there was even love.  All he wanted was for a conversation to occur. For a potential friendship, that might show Lupin there was still something out there worth living for.

_Maybe our Princess can bring her fallen knight back into the light of Grace once more._

 

And so, a month later, after many long nights of plotting, sewing, and dancing, they were on a boat rowing across a Swiss lake, heading for the tiny nation of Cagliostro.

* * *

 

Jigen pulled back the blue-velvet curtain and whistled. 

The main party spot was a plaza in the Roman ruins, maybe one block square, strung up with yellow festival lights that hung like something out of a dream of fairy lands.  White marble quarried two thousand years ago glistened in the low light on every surface, shadows as soft and inviting as the music the band in the corner played.  About a third of the main field was set up for dancing, with the rest occupied by tables to either stand or sit at.  The outsides of the table space were surrounded by the buffet, the bar, and some miscellaneous services.

But perhaps most importantly, there were multiple exits out of the place, including one pathway that had been set up for couples that wanted to stroll around the place—all curtained off by a strip of heavy fabric matching the one Lupin and Jigen were currently poking their heads out from.

It looked like the older folks—the upper-crust parents and civilians invited for political reasons—were currently hanging around the bar.  The younger folks, presumably the eligible young people, were in their finest costume wear and gems (each easily tens of thousands of dollars and making Jigen’s mouth water), and flirting with each other in small clumps throughout the dance floor and buffet line. He wondered if all the girls in fairy getups and sparkling crowns were royalty, or if that was just part of the costumes; he figured Goemon would have been able to fill him in on all the rules, and momentarily lamented his absence.  But they simply hadn’t had time to get him here, and if it didn’t go well, they didn’t want to get his hopes up for getting the band back together.

Still, once Lupin got his plan in motion tonight, it was going to be lonely at the dinner table, Jigen thought.

However, for everyone else, it was looking like a lively party—the young people all in glittering masks of different varieties, while the older folks were just chilling out with easy-going, late-summer smiles.

“You think they’ll notice we only spent about three hundred dollars on our getups?” Jigen hissed with a toothy grin.

“Once they’re drunk?” Lupin quipped.

Glancing down, Jigen found his partner checking out the space with an enraptured smile and piercing eyes.

It was a look he hadn’t seen in a long time, and for a moment, Jigen forgot why they were even there.

“I started thinking about which necklaces to pocket, isn’t that funny?” Jigen whispered down on his head.

Lupin chuckled back.  “Ahhh, but we’re here for a bigger prize, partner!”

The Wolf stood up and slicked his hair back under his hat, then situated it on his head determinedly, his hip cocked to one side and his shoulders pushed back.  It was a regal pose you’d expect to see in a painting—and probably taken from one. “Though I do appreciate you ever looking out for the budget.”  He set his free hand on his hip and surveyed the scene, the curtain falling closed behind him.

“Speaking of,” Jigen said, “I think we should avail ourselves of some food.”

He wrapped a jovial arm around his friend’s shoulders and steered him forward.

“Wait, but…”

“You can scope out the competition from the line.”

“Do you even know our table number—?”

“I’ll figure it out.  Go eat or I won’t let you have fun.”

“ _But_ _Daaad_ …”

“No buts,” Jigen snapped, playing along.  “Er…Yer _Hiiigh_ niss.”

“What a monster I have created,” Lupin muttered, resigned to his fate but troubled by his choices all the same.


End file.
